| Right hand to God
|
| Left hand holding the jewels
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| And I’m swearing up and down
|
| I’m cursing out the moon
|
| Tide stole my youth
|
| These creases in my brow ain’t tan lines
|
| Saltwater swole my eyes (Beachlife)
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| The sun’s burning black and blue (On my green eyes)
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| Too cold this side of June
|
| It ain’t natural
|
| Right hand in yours
|
| Left hand holding the juice
|
| When that jungle flower blooms
|
| Leave it in the ground
|
| Don’t try to cut it out
|
| The creases in your brow ain’t tan lines
|
| Saltwater swole your eyes (Beachlife)
|
| The sun burned black and blue (On your green eyes)
|
| Too cold this side of June
|
| It ain’t natural
|
| I’ll rebel, I’ll rebel
|
| But it ain’t natural
|
| I take care, I take care
|
| It’s just not growing well
|
| I’m no match for you
|
| It’s not hard to tell
|
| This isn’t going well
|
| But we’re under the palm trees
|
| Thinking heaven must be
|
| Somewhere under these palm trees
|
| With all the hell we’re raising
|
| At least we had the palm trees
|
| To shade us from the ray beams
|
| But not even the palm trees
|
| Could save us from the flames
|
| Summer remains |